Pandemonium
by Belle26
Summary: The club where it all began is the setting for some interesting events. Jace/Clary.
1. Chapter 1

It was another sticky, clammy night in Pandemonium. Bodies heaved together almost as one entity on the dancefloor and the booths around the outside were practically empty, save for a few individuals sipping drinks of various exotic colours. Jace stirred his own murky dark drink morosely with a straw. He had asked for the strongest cocktail they had on the bar (in a tall glass of course, he couldn't be seen drinking out of those silly Martini-glass-umbrella contraptions) and had hardly touched it thus far. He didn't feel like getting blind drunk this evening; the drink he'd been given looked quite ominous anyway.

His eyes scanned the dancefloor for what felt like the thousandth time that evening. Jace told himself he was looking for signs of trouble, but it was a lie. Since Clary had met them outside the club about two hours previously, he had been overcome by feelings that were far from brotherly. She wasn't dressed in one of Isabelle's annoyingly revealing get-ups, but the combination of her plain black jeans and tank top was utterly devastating anyway, to Jace at least. He was quite sure he saw a few of the guys in the line leering at Clary with less-than-brotherly expressions and wondered whether he would get his own black shirt dirty if he committed murder right there in the street.

Once inside the club however, Isabelle had looped her arm through Clary's and pulled her into the mass of bodies on the dancefloor. Jace thought the term 'dancefloor' was rather loosely used here. The movements most of the people in the middle of the room were making could hardly be defined as dancing. Some just jumped up and down on the spot and waved their arms like they were helping to land a plane. Again, his eyes examined the crowd, hoping to maybe find Clary or Isabelle attempting such moves. He'd never let them live it down.

What his eyes eventually fell on was far from amusing. Two hands interlinked, fingers plaited together. A large hand on a small waist. A strap falling down a pale, star-marked shoulder and being pulled up again by said large hand. A shy smile and an expressed gratitude.

Jace looked down at his own hand resting on his leg and was surprised to find it clenched tight. His knuckles were white, something burning in his limbs; the burning ache to spring from his seat and rip whoever it was mauling his sister into tiny pieces. He could feel his mouth curling unpleasantly into a snarl, felt powerless to stop himself from standing up and slamming down his drink, which splashed everywhere. Before he could rein in his temper, he was weaving through the thrashing bodies on the dancefloor.

The man (he definitely didn't look like a boy. Jace's anger and revulsion flared) had leaned in closer to Clary and was shouting over the music into her ear. Later on, Jace would probably think about his reaction and pass it off as brotherly instincts. But had he given it any thought at the time, Jace would know without any doubt that what he was feeling was pure jealousy. As he neared, Jace thought he heard phrases like, 'hot in here', 'get some fresh air' and 'come with me?'. The odd burning sensation that was pulsing through him like lava was intensifying the closer he got.

Clary was nodding and being led through the crowd, but the two of them didn't get far before Jace caught the man's shoulder and landed a punch square on his jaw, with all of his might. The man crashed to the floor, thankfully letting go of Clary's hand and clutching his face in agony. Some satisfaction filtered through the blistering heat of Jace's anger, but it dissipated when he turned to Clary and saw the mutinous expression on her face.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" she yelled at him over the music. Someone, somewhere shrieked about getting a bouncer and a small circle had formed around Jace, Clary and the writhing and bloodied figure on the floor. It was as though Jace had tunnel-vision; all he could see was Clary's fury.

"Taking his filthy paws off of you," he shouted back. "You're welcome, by the way."

There couldn't have been a worse thing to say. Clary reached out and grabbed Jace's wrist in a manner that would probably have been painful to someone who hadn't endured much worse. "Outside," she intoned. "Now."

For a split second, Jace wondered if intended to follow or whether she was just telling him to get out of her sight. But when he saw a muscular bouncer pushing through the crowd he decided it was probably best he called it a night anyway. Not bothering to check if Clary was behind him, Jace snaked through the crowd nimbly and didn't stop until he felt the cold New York air cooling his face and his temper. He wondered whether he should just head straight back to the Institute. Clary would most likely inform Isabelle and Alec of what had just happened and Jace could guess how it would go from there. He could see, in his mind's eye, Isabelle's eyes rolling and Alec staying silent but sneaking from the club five minutes later to head back home and make sure his _parabatai_ was alright. Yes, they'd all presume he'd go to the Institute. And so that's exactly where he didn't go.

***

Clary pushed down the filthy toilet lid and perched on top of it, putting her head in her hands. The music was muffled in the toilets of Pandemonium but her head still pounded. It had been an hour since Jace had sucker-punched Andy in the middle of the club and since then, Clary just hadn't been in the party mood. After apologising hundreds of times to Andy and enlisting Isabelle to take him off her hands, she had gone back to the table that they had claimed at the start of the night. Jace's glass was almost empty on the table, most of its contents splashed across the surface as though he'd slammed it down with some force. He probably had, she realised. It was a miracle Andy's jaw hadn't been broken; judging by the vivid purple bruise rising on his face, Jace must have thoroughly lost his temper.

Replaying the events in her mind again, Clary tried to make sense of it all. The events themselves were easy to get her head around. Jace had obviously thought Andy had dishonourable intentions and had taken it upon himself to swoop in and save the day. Making sense of her feelings about it all was a completely different kettle of fish. At the time she was so angry she could barely find words to express it and needed Jace to be out of her hair before she said something she might regret. But now when her blood had cooled, she found herself oddly touched. Jace had wanted to look out for her. This was hardly a new development; he'd risked much more than being thrown out of a club to protect Clary before. But it felt different when the monster he was protecting her from was so, for want of a better word, mundane. They could almost be an ordinary brother and sister.

Enough thinking. Clary wanted out of Pandemonium. She needed some peace and quiet. Alec and Isabelle would be fine getting back to the Institute together, and Clary would see them back there later. There was a stop on her way home that would guarantee her some peace and quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jace pushed the food around on his plate, looking the picture of brooding adolescence. He didn't feel much like eating but as friendly he was with the owner's of Taki's, he didn't know how much they'd appreciate him just strolling in and taking up a booth without ordering anything. The tucked-away restaurant was almost empty and was quiet except for the faint twitter of a radio behind the counter. It gave Jace time to gather his thoughts.

And gather them he needed to.

Usually he was so good at keeping his emotions in check. He could count on one hand the amount of times he'd actually risen to such obvious bait before. Funnily enough, all of them seemed to have occurred since he met Clary. Stabbing at his noodles angrily, Jace felt a twitch of anger. Who was she to make him lose his temper on so many occasions? Who was she to get so completely under his skin and turn him into someone he hardly knew anymore? Why couldn't she have just never showed up at the stupid club all those months ago? They would never have met, never have known they were related and Jace would have never struck out at a defenceless mundie for pawing the sister he wouldn't have known he had.

As Jace calmed himself once more, he knew his fierce thoughts were anger- and probably alcohol-fuelled. Now that she was there, Jace could never picture a life without Clary in it. Clary with her stubborn and foolish ways, her insane bravery, her ridiculous predilection for Simon, the way she was intimidated by Isabelle but for her looks, not her talent with a whip. The way she had grasped this strange new world with both hands, the way…

The way she always seemed to know where to find him.

The chimes above the door heralded a new customer and Jace looked up to see the object of his thoughts standing stock-still in the doorway, her eyes locked on him. They were caught in each others' gaze for a second before Clary backed away, letting the door close behind her. Jace swore to himself and followed, trying not to think about the conversation to come.

***

Of course he would be at Taki's, Clary thought angrily to herself. Of course he would presume they'd all go home without him, of course he'd stomp off somewhere to mope and feel sorry for himself. As she had locked eyes with her brother across the restaurant, she felt a wave of… anger? Regret? Desire? It was so intense she could hardly tell what she was feeling; she only knew she couldn't stay in the room with it any longer than necessary, and backed out of the door immediately.

But of course, he would come after her.

Clary had barely gone five strides before she heard the door chimes echo around the empty street and her brother's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Did you follow me here?"

If Clary and Jace were less acquainted she probably would have taken the opportunity to marvel at his arrogance. Of _course_ he would presume that she'd followed him. God forbid she might actually want to be rid of him for just a while to martial her thoughts into some kind of order. She didn't turn around to reply to him.

"No, Jace. I didn't follow you." Even to her own ears, her voice came out weary and deflated. She had been going for angry, or maybe even withering, but she just sounded tired.

"Oh." He didn't seem to know what to say. "Did you come for food? Because I was just leaving."

"I didn't come for food." Clary turned around now. "I came to think. To be alone."

"I guess great minds really do think alike," said Jace. He was leaning against the side of the building, looking at some point past Clary's shoulder. It was a warm night and the hair at the back of her neck stuck to her skin unpleasantly. Jace, as usual, looked impervious to any changes in temperature. Cool as a cucumber on a skiing trip. Clary wanted to hit him. "Or maybe it's the Morgenstern genes - we can't resist a good Chinese takeout." There was a sour quality to his voice, as though the words had left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Those famous Morgenstern genes. Shame you couldn't control the famous Morgenstern temper back there."

Jace had the good grace to look slightly abashed. "What's a guy to do when he sees a guy pawing all over his sister like that? I saw him, he had his hands all over you-"

"And what if I wanted him to have his hands on me, Jace? Did you not think about that? Maybe I liked the guy, maybe I wanted to see him again, although with what you did to his face I highly doubt visiting the Fray residence will be top of his list of priorities anytime soon."

"Morgenstern."

"What?"

Now Jace looked at her. "You're not Clary Fray, you're Clary Morgenstern.""If you get to be Jace Wayland, I get to be Clary Fray."

"For all intents and purposed, tonight we're Morgensterns. Because if you're a Fray and I'm a Wayland I don't have any kind of reasonable excuse for what I did." Sometime during their exchange, Jace had gotten so close to Clary she could have reached out and traced his jaw line with her fingers, skimmed his collarbone with her knuckles…

"That isn't the point," said Clary, looking down at the floor. Looking at Jace's light golden collarbones would do her no good in this situation. Come to think of it, when had it ever done her any good? Damn collarbones.

"Then what is the point?" Jace demanded, taking a step even closer. He was emanating an odd sort of anger. To an outsider his demeanour was perfectly calm, but Clary knew her brother better than that; the way his shoulders were slightly tensed told her that he wasn't as unfeeling as he liked to come across. "Did you like it then, Clarissa? Is that what you did want? To have his filthy hands all over you?"His proximity was making Clary lose all coherent thought. "I… you don't… maybe?" she stammered as Jace's breath stirred the hair by her ear and made her nerves sing. Jace's hands took hold of her upper arms, effectively holding her in position while he dipped his head to whisper into her ear.

"Maybe? That doesn't sound very convincing." His voice was like syrup poured over broken glass. "Didn't he make your pulse speed up with just a touch? Did he not manage to find that spot on your neck that makes you shiver? If I remember, it was right… here." He dropped a feather-light kiss to that accursedly sensitive skin and Clary knew that with his hands gripping her arms, he could not miss the delicious shudder that run through her.

"Jace, don't," Clary whispered back, but her body was betraying her. Her heart was thudding ten to the dozen, she knew her cheeks had turned scarlet and she made the awful mistake of raising her eyes to his. Before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers and she was pressed up against the brick wall of Taki's.

Her breath left her in a whooshing gasp as her back hit the bricks and Jace captured her bottom lip between his, nibbling on her bottom lip in the way that he knew would elicit a moan. While kissing Jace was still the single most earth-shattering experience Clary could imagine, there was an edge to his actions - almost as though he was trying to teach her a lesson, to brand her. One of his hands moved up to cup her face, lingering for longer than necessary over her shoulder and collarbone and the other hand slid into the space between the wall and the small of her back, pressing her even closer to him if that could be possible.

Clary's head was spinning, whirling even. She couldn't process a single thought; her heart seemed to have exploded and the blood which had been wildly coursing through her veins just a second ago felt like it now had the consistency of honey. She gripped Jace to her blindly, her fingernails digging through the material of his shirt and into his pliant skin.

And then he was gone. Clary felt suddenly cold all over as she opened her eyes and saw him standing two feet away from her. He looked unaffected except for the slightly uneven tempo of his breath and the hands that were clenched into fists by his side.

"Do what you like," he spat. "Go off with the mundane or any random stranger who gropes you in a club. They won't make you feel like this. I can promise you that, Clary."

Clary opened and closed her mouth a few times like a goldfish, willing some sort of sensible answer to come into her brain, but she was still reeling. She watched, frozen, as Jace backed away, eventually turning and sprinting down the street. It was another few minutes before Clary moved. She slid down the wall, barely noticing the brick scratching her back, and buried her head in her arms.


End file.
